Rivals

say?’

‘Rupert sent you the pendant.’

‘He couldn’t have,’ whispered Taggie. ‘I hate him.’

‘No, you don’t. He’s really nice. Go and sit next to him. I’ll try and find Reg and his mates to carry the cake in and people can eat it on their fruit salad plates. Go on, Tag.’

‘Never, never,’ gasped Taggie. She was deathly pale now. ‘I’m going to send it back.’

Maud’s plans had gone seriously awry. She had wanted them all to be dancing and she and Rupert to be standing under one of Caitlin’s hundred bunches of mistletoe at midnight, but they were still sitting at the tables waiting for Patrick to cut his cake. Why on earth couldn’t Taggie be more efficient?

At five minutes to midnight Declan got somewhat unsteadily to his feet, and tapped the table with his knife. ‘I’m very pleased to see you all here tonight,’ he said, ‘and I’d just like to drink my son Patrick’s health. He’s a good boy and he’s given us a lot of pleasure over the years.’

‘And me too,’ piped up Patrick’s girlfriend, Lavinia, and everyone laughed and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and said ‘Speech! Speech!’ As Reg and his mates staggered in very perilously carrying the cake, Patrick stood up. Speaking in public didn’t rattle him in the least. He had all Declan’s assurance: ‘I’d like to thank my father and mother for having me,’ he said, ‘and giving me such a wonderful party, and for my sister Taggie for doing all the work, and making this wonderful cake.’ For a second Maud looked furious at the loudness of the cheers. ‘Thank you all for coming, and for all your presents, which I’ll open later when I get a moment.’

There were more loud cheers. Then, just as Caitlin finished lighting the candles, like the dark stranger coming over the threshold, Cameron Cook walked in. She was wearing an extremely tight-fitting, strapless, black suede dress, which came eight inches above her knees. Three-inch cross-laced gaps on either side from armpit to hem made it quite plain she was wearing nothing but Fracas and Mantan underneath. There was a heavy metal chain round her neck, and among the heavy silver bangles worn over her long black suede gloves gleamed Tony’s diamond bracelet.

Anyone else would have looked tarty in that dress, but Cameron, with her marvellously lean, sinuous, rapacious beauty, succeeded in looking both menacing and absolutely staggering.

‘Holy shit,’ said Patrick into the microphone.

Everyone screamed with laughter.

‘Blow out your candles,’ said Caitlin.

Still gazing at Cameron, Patrick blew them out with one puff, then turned to Declan. ‘Who the hell’s that?’

‘The biggest bitch in television,’ said Declan bleakly.

‘She may well be your future daughter-in-law,’ said Patrick.

‘Christ, I can just see her with a whip,’ muttered Bas to Rupert.

‘Perhaps that’s what gets your brother going.’

Basil turned to Daysee Butler: ‘Did you know your boss was heavily into SM?’

‘Who’s she?’ said Daysee.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ said Cameron, fighting her way through the crowd to Maud’s side. ‘We’ve had a lot of hassle at work.’

‘Lovely to see you at any time,’ said Maud. ‘Caitlin,’ she added pointedly, terrified that Caitlin might start monopolizing Rupert again, ‘will get you something to eat.’

‘She needs a drink,’ said Patrick.

Goodness, he’s pretty, thought Cameron. Like Declan, but purer-looking, somehow.

‘Aren’t you going to cut your cake?’ she said to him.

‘I’ve got to wish,’ said Patrick. Never taking his eyes off her, he slowly plunged the knife into the cake, right up to the hilt.

‘I didn’t have time to buy you a present,’ said Cameron.

‘You brought yourself,’ said Patrick, slightly mockingly. ‘Just what I wanted.’

Filling up his glass with champagne, he handed it to her.

‘Thanks.’ Taking it, Cameron drained the glass.

Just at that moment, from speakers all round the tent, Big Ben boomed out the twelve strokes of midnight. As everyone started kissing everyone else and cheering, Patrick drew Cameron into his arms and kissed her on and on and on.

At last they broke away.

‘The coup de foudre,’ said Patrick softly. ‘I’ve waited twenty-one years for this to happen.’

‘Look at Tony’s face,’ whispered Lizzie Vereker to Charles Fairburn with a shiver.

As the last notes of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ rang out, Declan could be heard saying, ‘Bloody January again.’

Plates were being cleared away, tables pushed back and the marquee cleared for dancing, as the women drifted upstairs to do their faces. Telling Cameron he wouldn’t be a second, Patrick went off to the kitchen to thank Taggie. Oblivious that Monica might be watching, Tony fought his way over to Cameron and seized her arm: ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

Cameron winced. ‘Celebrating Christmas. It hasn’t been great so far.’

‘I couldn’t get away.’

‘I guess not.’

‘That dress is deliberately provocative,’ snarled Tony.

‘Well, if it deliberately provokes you, it’s doing a great job.’

‘Why are you so fucking late?’

‘Titania’s four months gone.’

‘Shit. How d’you know?’

‘Wardrobe told me,’ said Cameron.

‘And she’s admitted it?’

‘Sure.’

‘Who’s the father?’

‘She’s not sure. It could be Bottom, or Theseus or even Peter Quince.’

‘Jesus — we’ll just have to shoot round her.’

Patrick never made it to the kitchen. Declan dragged him into the library.

‘For Christ’s sake, Cameron’s out of bounds.’

‘Why?’

‘She’s Tony Baddingham’s mistress.’

‘So. Are you frightened of losing your job?’

For a second Patrick thought Declan was going to hit him.

‘It’s not that. You’ve no idea of the evil of both of them.’

‘He may be, she’s not. She just needs someone of her own age to play with for a change.’

‘He’s taught her some very unpleasant habits,’ said Declan heavily.

‘Like arguing with you, I suppose,’ said Patrick.

‘She’s out of your league.’

‘I don’t give a fuck,’ said Patrick, walking out.

‘You don’t have to take your clothes off to have a good time, oh no,’ sang Jermaine Stewart from the disco. ‘You can dance and party all night.’

Still arguing with Tony, seeing both Monica and Patrick bearing purposefully down on her, Cameron escaped to check her face. After Patrick’s kiss, she certainly couldn’t have any lipstick left. Upstairs, in the only bedroom that didn’t seem to be inhabited by necking teenagers, she found Sarah Stratton brushing her hair.

‘Good party,’ said Sarah.

‘It seems so.’

‘I’m glad I bumped into you,’ said Sarah. ‘Tony’s offered me a job at Corinium. Ought I to take it?’

‘Sure,’ said Cameron coolly.

‘You don’t think he’s just after my body?’

‘No way,’ said Cameron, who was having difficulty applying lipstick, her hands were trembling so much.